


A Moment of Reflection

by Tinywriter365



Category: Emergency! (TV 1972)
Genre: Gen, Reflection, mike's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinywriter365/pseuds/Tinywriter365
Summary: This was inspired by a picture I saw on another fanfiction site. It was a picture of a turnout jacket on the mirror of the engine. Mike reflects on a rough day.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 7





	A Moment of Reflection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaughtersMelody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughtersMelody/gifts), [MoonWindDancer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonWindDancer/gifts).



> As always, I don’t own anything belonging to Emergency! I am just playing. I will return the boys in good working condition when I am done.

A light rain pelted the roof of a dimly lit home. The rain and accompanying lighting fit the home occupant’s mood. He was emotionally drained after a painful day. As hard as it was there was something, he needed to get off his chest. The rain continued a little harder as the drained man sat down at a modest wooden desk. He reached into the second drawer on the left and skillfully retrieved a well-worn leather journal. It had seen better days but still held an important position. To the author, it was the one place he could open up without question.  
Tired, long fingers carefully flipped through the book until they found a blank page. The sound of the rain increased. ‘Fitting weather to end the day’ thought the author. He listened for a few minutes before he picked up the nearby pen. The feel of the smooth surface in his hand broke the carefully built wall he had constructed throughout the day.

KMG 365

A Moment of Reflection

Today was one of those days that hurt. It was a day that reminded all of us of the dangers we face every time the tones go off. Today, my family in blue came together for a final good-bye. The members of my shift and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with members of our brotherhood from across the county city, state, and by my count at least five states. We lined the roads in two solid lines, one on each side of the road.

It looked like we were a giant drill team when as one; hundreds of us saluted. Not only did we salute K.J. our fallen brother from 72s C shift. We also saluted his two families. One from his shift and the other he went home to every night. As they passed us, we fell in line for the rest of the procession. He was carried to his final resting place on his girl under the flag he so lovingly handled every morning and night.

As he arrived, my focal point for the day caught my eye for the first time. Once the engine came to rest, his captain lovingly hung his turnout and helmet over the driver side mirror. The simple act hit me as if I had been kicked in the stomach by an out of control inch and a half. I had to physically fight my body to stay on my feet. 

I know Cap heard the gasp that escaped my lips. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me and then follow my line of sight. I knew it hit him hard when I saw him flinch. Yes, I listened to the service. Every word. Every painful tone of the bell. Every painful, mournful note of the piper who played Amazing Grace. I heard them all.

When the joint color guard moved in I locked my eyes. Our flag ceremony is a wow moment, but when you put us with a military color guard it’s a damn moment. As one we raised our arms again in a joint salute before the bugler played Taps.  
By then, I had two eyes clouded with tears. One on his turnout. The other on Roy, Chet, and Cap as they collectively flinched when Taps started. K.J. was a brother-in-arms to them both in the department and as a fellow service member. Even as the color guard folded and presented the flag along with his helmet, my vision was split. I had one eye on them and one eye on the truck, I never broke contact with the engine until we broke ranks and I lost sight in the sea of dressed blues.  
So why his turnout? It served as my gut punch for two reasons. One, it made me reflect on something I do out of habit at the beginning of every shift and after every call. Two, it reminded me, that his girl would be lost until her new owner steps in. The second thought made my stomach flip I never want to put Big Red or my guys in that position.

The first made me think. How many times have I hung my gear like that? It is so natural that it doesn’t feel right if I don’t do it. As an engineer, I respect my engine. Yet, she knows when I hang my gear it’s time to go to work. I know the next time I do I will take a minute to reflect. Not only on the jacket that caught my eye on a sunny day but on all of us. The ones who have come before us. The ones I serve with currently on every shift all over the world. The ones who will follow us for years to come.  
May we stand with one another. Find our focal point and remember all of us in a moment of reflection.

KMG 365

The pen went silent. Tired, drained fingers swiped a few stray tears from shining blue eyes. The author took a breath as he laid the journal in its drawer. He slowly stood and left the dimly lit room. A feeling of closure hit him as he headed for the bedroom and listened as the rainstorm came to a slow stop.


End file.
